


The Life I Know With You

by vespergray



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespergray/pseuds/vespergray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what timeline, no matter what reality, no matter what universe, they belong together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prophets

**Author's Note:**

> This fiction will be several short stories, with Julian and Kira together in different universes/timelines. 
> 
>  
> 
> This particular chapter takes place after 3x10 (Fascination).

Kira turned in surprise when she heard the door to the temple open. She always visited in the middle of the day, when other people weren't around. 

She was even more surprised to see Dr. Bashir walk in hesitantly, his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Doctor-,” she started to rise from her kneeling position at the altar. 

“No, no, please sit. I didn't want to interrupt you.” He slowly made his way to her, moving to a kneeling position beside her. He looked around, taking in the candles and quiet. 

She waited, pursing her lips. What does he want?

He let out a breath. “Actually, Major, I was hoping to find you here.” 

“Why? Is something wrong?” 

“No, I...” he finally turned to look at her. “After everything that happened yesterday, with the uh...nearly having sex-,” 

“I was NOT going to have sex with you!” she retorted quickly. 

“Well, with the...whatever was happening with us...after we all sobered up, I realized that I don't really know you.” 

Kira shifted uneasily, unsure of how to respond. “You know me, Doctor. We've worked together for years. “

“Yes, yes, but I don't really know you. I don't know what you do in your spare time,” he smiled a little. “Except coming here. So that's why I came here. To find you. To find out what you do here.” 

“I pray. To the Prophets,” she said simply. 

He sat back. “Tell me more. About your faith.” 

“I'm not sure Bajoran faith will be interesting to you, Doctor. You're not even Bajoran.” 

“On the contrary. I'm quite interested.” 

She frowned, perturbed. Bashir could be a babbling nuisance at times, but he was also earnest. “You really want to know?” 

“Yes, Major. I do.” 

So she started talking about her faith. About the Prophets. About everything her mother had taught her and her father had lived out. 

Julian listening, breaking in every now and then to ask questions. “Fascinating,” he mused when she finished. “It's not really all that different from the religion I was raised in.”

She was taken aback. “Seriously?”

“Yes. There were even prophets,” he nodded. “Some differences, of course.” 

“Why did you stop practicing it?” 

He shrugged. “Once I went to medical school, joined Starfleet, it really didn't seem to fit into my life anymore. I only really ever thought about it when I spoke to my parents. Or on the religious holidays. Otherwise, I just sort of...abandoned the faith, I guess you could say.” 

She shook her head. “I can't imagine not having my faith. During the Occupation, it was the only thing that sustained us. It's been the one constant I can hold on to.” 

“Perhaps maybe one day I can say that about my own faith.” 

“I hope so, Doctor.” she hesitated. “And maybe one day you can tell me about your religion...and more about Julian Bashir?” 

For the first time in a long time, she felt close to someone.


	2. For a King

Kira clenched her fists so hard she felt her nails break into her skin. 

Her head felt so heavy. The beaded garland that was customary for this ceremony was draped over the top of her long hair. The delicate baubles jingled prettily and the sound made her head ache. 

Her maid picked up the bottom of her long dress so it didn't drag in the sand. Such a strange land, Kira thought idly. So much sand and so hot. The sun, which had seemed merciless all day, was finally dipping down. Night was beginning to fall. Sweat had clung to every inch of her skin all day but the rising moon didn't make her feel better. It only reminded her of her fate. 

Her maid was fussing over the bottom of her dress, panicked as she tried to shake the sand off. Kira knew that she should care, since the dress had belonged to her people for decades and it was considered the most beautiful garment that they had, to be worn by the most beautiful woman. But she couldn't muster up a damn about the dress. She prayed fervently to the gods- any god- that one would swoop in and save her. 

She was not ready to marry a total stranger. Even if it was what the Prophets wanted. Even if it would help her people. Even if it meant alliance between their two lands. 

She was about to spend the rest of her life with someone she had never met. And she was scared. And she wanted to go home. 

She knew that she would probably never see home again. The thought made her want to scream and knock over a table. 

Kira's own king wasn't attending tonight. He had sent his brother, his second in command, to escort her. 

Escort her...definition: keep her from running away. 

She wouldn't run. Not because she didn't want to. But because it was her duty to do this. The Prophets had chose her. And she had to obey. 

“Mira, stop,” she chided her maid. “It looks fine.” 

Mira shook her head. “Miss Kira, it has to look perfect.” she stood back and smiled. “It looks pretty close to perfect.” 

Kira wouldn't call it that. The dress made her feel like a whore, with its clinging sheer curves and low cut top. It certainly didn't leave anything to the imagination. 

Which, she suspected, was the point. After all, she was being wed to this king so her country could have peace with his. He had a powerful kingdom that already ruled several other lands- thus, probably the reason he already had two wives. She would make number 3, and her people wanted to make sure that she would be...pleasing to him. 

She had wanted to vomit when she had been informed she had been chosen. She had cried almost every single night. The urge to retch only increased that morning when her maid had informed her to be naked completely under the dress, so she and the king could consummate the marriage right away. 

Better for me to be chosen than some lily-white virgin, she mused. I can grit my teeth and get through this. Maybe, with him having other women, I won't have to go to bed with him so often. And there will always be plenty to eat and clothes to wear since he's rich. I won't have to go to bed hungry like I have pretty much every other night of my life. They said he can speak my language, so at least we'll be able to communicate. 

Her self talk was supposed to make her feel better, but it didn't. 

A man in a long red robe approached her. Kira held a hand under her breastbone, trying to quell her fluttering heart. The man bowed slightly. “I'm here to take you to to the king. Your maid can go back to your carriage now.” 

Kira barely felt Mira's kiss on her cheek, barely registered her leaving. Her bare feet dragged as she followed the man to a large room at the end of a stone hall. 

He bowed again. “Please enter. King Bashir is waiting to meet you.” 

She adjusted her dress and ran a hand through her hair. With shaking hands, she pushed the door open. 

The room was dark. Flickering candles surrounded her on all sides. The room had a heavy smell- one that she would later recognize as sandalwood. She paused for a moment, her eyes struggling to adjust. 

“Kira?” the voice, heavily accented, cut through the dark. 

Kira obediently dropped to her knees, the dress spreading out like a flower around her. Thankfully, the floor was cold under her aching and swollen legs. She lowered her head, her eyes focused on her dress. “King Bashir.” 

A dark hand was offered to her and she finally dragged her eyes up. 

He was a lot more handsome than she imagined. For some reason, she had pictured him as an old man. Thank the Prophets, he looked to be the same age as her. His skin was dark and his eyes the color of warm tea. 

She knew him. 

No, no, that couldn't be right. She had never seen him before in her life. But yet, she had a disconcerting sensation that they had met before. Had spoken before. That they knew each other. And yet...

That was impossible. But even as she took his hand and stood, she couldn't shake the feeling. 

“I'm Kira,” miraculously, her voice was steady. “Your new wife.” 

His eyes seemed to swoop all over her at once, down to her toes. “I'm very pleased to meet you.” He handed her a delicate little cup from a silver tray. “Shall we drink to this and make it official?” 

She nodded, taking the tiny cup. 

She was confused when he hesitated, his cool exterior broken for a second. She waited without a word, wondering if something was wrong. Nothing could go wrong. If anything did and their marriage wasn't official, her people would be plunged back into poverty and starvation. Everything depended on this. 

 

“Kira...” he shook his head. “I'm sorry. It just feels as if I have seen you before.” 

“I know.” 

He lifted his eyebrow. “Well, we should have plenty to talk about then. Perhaps we can figure out how we know each other.” 

“Perhaps.” 

They clinked their glasses together and she didn't pull away when he kissed her.


End file.
